


Over the Years

by Frenchvaile



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Also Ned Bel and Lux being awesome siblings, Brief mentions of Russia Finland and Denmark, M/M, Multi, NedCan, Some FACE fam, Soulmate AU, historical fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 13:03:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17981858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchvaile/pseuds/Frenchvaile
Summary: Everyone has a soulmate tattoo. The first words that your soulmate will say to you.But things happen, and answers are not always clear.Or: Matthew and Tim throughout the years.





	Over the Years

**Author's Note:**

> Characters:  
> Matthew - Canada  
> Tim - Netherlands  
> Elise - Belgium  
> Lux - Luxembourg  
> Alfred - America  
> Francis - France  
> Arthur - England  
> Ivan - Russia  
> Tino - Finland  
> Matthias - Denmark

_1914, Ontario, Canada. WW1_

 

_Who turned on the buzzers?_

Matthew’s head was pounding as he opened his eyes, but it wasn't the same kind of painful headaches he usually got when there was a big argument in his country. And it wasn't a hangover either.

Well he _did_ have that bottle of beer last night. But it was only a small one, not big enough to cause this stamped he was feeling. (He's glad Arthur wasn't there, for he'd surely have Matthew's head. He was “too young to drink”, after all.)

It was funny though, for no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't figure out why he had a headache. But Matthew was good at ignoring pain, so he sucked it up and sat up in the bed, the soft red covers falling off his shoulders. He shivered lightly when his feet touched the wooden floor.

Kumajiro popped up from under the sheets, his white fur sticking up at all angles.

“Food?” he asked through a toothy yawn.

Matthew chuckled softly, “I'll get some food for us as soon as I get dressed.”

The bear nodded, satisfied with the answer, and leapt off the bed and out of his room to the kitchen.

Matthews sighed when he was gone, rubbing his temples before searching through his dresser to find something to wear.

He jolted violently at a knock on his door as he was putting his trousers on, a very loud and quick one that did not help his head, thank you very much.

He grumbled lightly to himself, rushing down the stairs and opened the door, blinking when he saw who was on the other side.

“Arthur?” he questioned. Arthur smiled slightly.

“Hello, love. May we come in?”

 _We?_ Matthew nodded, stepping out of the way, “Of course. Would you like anything to drink? Tea?”

Arthur smiled more genuinely and nodded, “Tea sounds great, poppet. Thank you.”

Matthew smiled and started towards the kitchen. He didn't bother to check who was behind him.

Once he was in the kitchen, Matthew headed towards the kettle on his little stove to heat some water. He heard three sets of footsteps. Arthur's, and surprisingly he realized that another set belong to Alfred's. The last one seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on the owner.

He looked up towards his guests as he put the kettle to boil. Arthur entered the room, then came his brother, the one and only Alfred Jones, and then…

_...Francis?_

Matthew hadn't really seen Francis ever since the War of 1812. The Frenchman had sent numerous letters over the years, was apparently even bold enough to show up at his door a few times before Arthur kicked him out (Matthew hadn’t known about it until a couple years ago when Arthur finally told him), but the letters either Arthur took them away and burned them after reading, or Matthew didn't open them.

They all stood in the doorway, shifting nervously or not making eye contact. It felt awkward, really.

_What are they doing here, anyways?_

Arthur must’ve grew tired by the silence because he cleared his throat and nudged Francis lightly with his shoulder, tilting his head towards Matthew.

“We'll give you two a minute before discussing the...other matter.” Arthur declared, dragging a very reluctant Alfred behind him. Which left Matthew with his former caretaker.

Francis shifted lightly and walked hesitantly towards him, “Mathieu…” he started.

Matthew stood still, unmoving as a tree as Francis slowly moved towards him. Even as he placed one hand on his shoulder, using the other to cup his face, tilting his head towards him, he barely dared to breath-

“You’ve grown,” Francis whispered, “and I regret not being able to watch you.”

Matthew felt his eyes sting with unshed tears. After all these years, all the hurt and anger he had felt towards Francis dimmed. The dam of emotions had finally seemed to have broke.

Matthew quickly wrapped his arms tightly around Francis, burrowing his face in his shoulder to hide the tears that were starting to stream down his face.

For a frightening second, Francis hadn't responded to the hug. Matthew nearly pulled back, afraid that maybe he had acted to quickly, when he felt a pair of strong arms pull him closer. It made him want to cry harder.

“ _Je suis désolé, je suis très désolé,”_ Francis kept whispering to him, and maybe those words _didn’t_ make up for everything he did to him over the years; things like The Seven Years War and American Revolution were wounds that would take a lot of time to heal, but maybe, just maybe, it was a start of a new beginning between them.

A throat clearing made them jump back out of each other's arms.Arthur was standing with his arms crossed, Alfred leaning against the wall uncomfortably behind him.

“We need to discuss the other thing,” Arthur stated apologetic.

Francis sighed and wiped his eyes, “ _Oui,_ I know. Take a seat, Mathieu.”

He nodded nervously at the change of atmosphere and took a seat at the table, the other three following.

“As you know, there was a lot of...conflict going on in Europe lately.” Arthur stated.

“No shit,” Alfred muttered under his breath.

Francis ignored him and continued Arthur’s sentence, “We don’t know if you know yet. But war has been officially declared in Europe.” he finished quietly, gripping his hands tightly in his lap.

All the air felt like it was sucked out of Matthew’s lungs. He glances over at Alfred, who clearly looked scared.

“I’m deeply sorry, Matthew. Since you're still a British colony, you have automatically joined as well.” Arthur said, eyes downcast.

He couldn’t believe it, he didn’t want to. He rubbed his hands down his face in distraught.

The dots finally started connecting. The headache wasn’t because of an argument, it was because of the declaration of _war._ The excitement, fear, anger, it was all tied into it.

“When do I go over?” he asked quietly.

“You don’t have to go over, poppet.” Arthur answered.

“But my people are,” he protested, “and I’m not letting them do it alone.”

Arthur sighed, “I don’t know when they’ll leave.” he admitted.

Matthew turned to Alfred, “Have you declared war yet?”

Alfred shook his head apologetically, “No. I want to help you guys, but...It’s complicated.”

He nodded and glanced down at his hands.

“There’s much needed to be figured out,” Francis declared softly, “and we’ll all do it together.”

 _Such a laughable thought,_  Matthew mused bitterly, _together, as if they had always been a close family._

But still, he nodded with everyone else and offered them to stay the night.

 

_Amsterdam, Netherlands_

 

Tim tapped a pen on the table, a newspaper spread out in front of him.

_Another war, huh?_

A knock at the door alerted him to a guest. He sighed and stood up, forcing himself to answer the door instead of just ignoring the person.

“Hello?” he called, opening the door. To his surprise, Elise was standing on the other side.

“Hello, brother. May I come in?” she asked politely.

He nodded and stepped aside. “You didn’t tell me you would be visiting. I would have cleaned.”

Elise laughed, “You're house is spotless. Do not worry about it. Besides, I wanted to ask you an important question.” she admitted, taking her coat off and hanging it up.

Tim gave a small smile and gestured to the living room, “Make yourself at home, then.”

Elise nodded and headed towards the sofa, waving him over. Tim obeyed, sitting next to her.

“How's Lux doing?” he asked.

“I think he’s doing pretty good. He misses you, you know. He wishes to visit soon.” she replied, smiling, “He keeps trying your hairstyle.”

He snorted, “I like his hair the way it is. Tell him to visit someday; the three of us can spend some time together.”

Elise’s smile widened, “I’ll be sure to tell him. He will be excited. Speaking of excitement, I’m sure you’ve heard about the war?” she asked tentatively.

He nodded. “Indeed, it’s hard to miss. But I do not want to join this war. I will be staying neutral.”

“Is that wise?”

“I and my bosses don’t want to be involved in it, so we will not be fighting. What about you?”

“I believe I will be staying neutral as well. Lux too.”

Tim nodded, “Just be careful.”

She closed her eyes, “I could say the same to you.”

They didn’t talk for a few minutes afterwards. Tim was starting to get restless at the silence. _She’s never usually this quiet._

“Why don’t you stay for the night?” he offered, “I can make us dinner.”

Elise gave a small smile, “That sounds wonderful. “

 

_(It would be years before the end of the Great War, and still not even the beginning of the second. Through all the hardships and suffering, things would never be the same as time moves on.)_

 

_1939, Ontario, Canada_

 

 _Oh, the irony,_ Matthew thought bitterly, _they just_ had _to call the last one the ‘War to End All Wars.’_

Perhaps he should’ve seen this coming. Tensions in Europe had been rising recently once again. It had only been a matter of time.

He stood on his porch, the sun rays fading behind the trees. He noted numbly that the wind was picking up, making him colder than he already was, but he didn’t want to put a jacket on. The cold he was feeling couldn’t be solved with more clothes anyways.

Briefly he realized he was near full independent. He wouldn’t have to join the war this time.

But Matthew remembered the pained faces of England and France, smudged with dirt and wrapped in bandages. How they nearly lost all hope, how exhausted they had been. He remembers his own struggles in the last war. He wished it was just a dream, a cruel nightmare, but the devastating truth was glaringly obvious.

He rolled his shirt sleeve up to his elbow to gently brush his fingers over the words on it that were wrapped along the inside of his arm.

_“So, are you my guardian angel or something?”_

He knew he can’t abandon his family, no matter how much pain they can cause him.

Matthew inhaled deeply before sighing, rolling his sleeve back down to hide his fate.

_Looks like I'm crossing the sea sooner than I wished._

 

_…_

 

_May 1940, London, England_

 

Matthew watched the tall man next to Arthur curiously. He remembers this man, he had seen him when he had just been a colony of France. Not personally of course, Francis was much too protective of “his _petit garçon_.”

He was still the tall, well built, and somewhat intimidating man Matthew remembers. A small scar above his right eye, and that long scarf still around his neck. Well taken care of, since Matthew couldn’t see any holes or loose threads. _He hasn't changed much from then._

Well, he had looked taller when Matthew was younger, and standing next to Arthur while they chatted definitely made him still seem a lot taller too.

He had actually never caught a name to that man before, now that he thought of it. Curiosity seeped his way into him, urging him to find out who this person was.

But as soon as Matthew took a step towards the two, the man and Arthur's conversation must've ended, because he turned on his heel and left.

Arthur was still there though, so he continued his way to him.

“Hello, Arthur,” he greeted, “who was that?”

Arthur turned to him and nodded in greeting, “That was Holland. Better known as Tim. Have you ever met him?”

Matthew shook his head, “Not personally. I've only seen him from afar.”

Arthur hummed thoughtfully, “Perhaps someday I could introduce you two. However I don't know if I fully trust him,” he sniffed.

Matthew smiled, “I'd still like to meet him.”

Arthur sighed, “Maybe someday…” he trailed off, turning back to watch the retreating figure.

Someday was all Matthew was asking for.

 

_..._

 

Days had ended ended up turning into months. It was long and tiring, and Matthew _really_ wished they could just get the whole war finished.

He was still meeting the Allies in London, away from the battlefield. Arthur told him in the last war that it’s a way that might help to get his mind away from the fighting. Matthew took it with a grain of salt.

Still, he had obeyed Arthur’s request for a meeting, and that’s why he now found himself in a room of yelling countries, once again.

 _Can they ever stop yelling at each other for once, just to get some work done?_ He wondered, annoyed at all the noise.

“Enough!” Arthur barked, scaring most of the nations, “We don’t have time for this! Sit down and we’ll _peacefully_ continue the meeting!”

A pissed Arthur was definitely not something anyone wanted to deal with, and soon enough everyone was back in their seats, the meeting smooth sailing from there. Matthew silently thanked Arthur for getting the to quiet down.

Eventually Arthur called the meeting to a close, stating that they’ll get more done tomorrow. Matthew doubted that, but he quickly stood and tried to retreat when he heard Arthur telling him to wait. Everyone looked curiously at the two of them, Francis more so, but Arthur shooed them out.

“I need you to do something for me,” Arthur said grimly after the others left.

Matthew raised a brow, “What is it?”

“I'm supposed to take in the royal family of Holland. As you know, things are not going well thereright now, but…I may not end up doing so well either,” he sighed heavily, “If something goes wrong…” he paused to study him intently.

Matthew fought back the urge to shrink in back under the heat of the state. Instead, he forced himself to straighten his stance and hold the gaze.

Arthur must've seemed satisfied with whatever he had been looking for, “I'll need you to take in Tim's - and possibly my own - royal families.” he finished.

His eyes widened and he almost stuttered in his suprise, “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I trust you completely.”

And god, that was stressful but _nice_ too.

“I'll take them in,” he promised, “they’ll be safe in Canada.”

It looked like an invisible weight had been lifted off Arthur's shoulders. He gave Matthew a quick pat on the shoulder and turned to leave, but paused before facing him once more.

He was about to ask if something was wrong when Arthur took his hand and pulled him forward, wrapping him in an one-armed hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing lightly before letting go and leaving, his eyes not looking quite as dark as they had been.

Matthew smiled at Arthur's back. The Englishman rarely showed affection like that, most probably because he didn't know how to truly express it. It had been different when he had been younger, a colony, but now the moments were stretched, yet just as meaningful. So Matthew will treasure that moment closely, along with all the others.

 

_September 1943, Italian Mainland_

 

Matthew sat next to his brother on a piece of rubble. Alfred looked kind of down, but it was understandable. It was war.

He thought they would sit in a peaceful silence, but when Alfred opened his mouth he could practically _feel_ the silly comment he was going to make. Usually he’d be appreciated of it, but tonight he just wanted his company, not jokes.

“Shut up,” he muttered, glaring at his brother.

Alfred snorted, “I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t care. Shut up.”

Alfred ignored him and glanced around the area. As of right now they were in Italy. “This is much different than before, huh?”

Matthew grit his teeth, “What do you think?”

“I think you need to take a breather.”

He sighed heavily, “I’m sorry.”

Alfred smiled softly at him, “It’s alright. I know you’re stressed. It’ll be over soon.”

That was a lie and they both knew it.

 

_November 1944, Netherlands_

 

Tim stared at the person in front of him. He couldn't remember exactly where he was, everything was weird, but this person...puzzled him.

His face and soft blond hair was covered in sweat and dirt, but his eyes seemed to glow even around the darkness of his vision.

_His eyes...are violet?_

After years of waiting, someone was here. Someone is helping him.

“It’s alright, you’re safe,” the person whispered to him, “I’m going to help you.”

Tim let himself give a small smile for the first time in what felt like forever as his vision blurred and finally gave out.

 

_..._

_“Big brother? What does the words on my arm mean? Me and Lux got them not that long ago, but we don’t know what they mean!”_

_Tim glanced up from his gardening to see Elise trotting up next to him, Lux right behind her._

_He smiled at them and patted the ground, putting aside the tools he had been using. “Sit and I’ll tell you two.”_

_They both grinned and plopped in front of him, giggling as Lux accidentally sat in a muddy spot in the dirt, staining his clothes._

_Tim laughed, “I should have some spare clothes. Nothing fancy, but it’ll do until you can wash your clothes.”_

_Lux nodded, still giggling, “Tell us the meaning now, please?”_

_Tim shrugged, “Well, those words are actually very important. Rumours are that those words will be the first thing your soulmate says to you.”_

_Elise tilted her head, “What’s a soulmate?”_

_He smiled, “From what I understand, a soulmate is someone you’re destined to be with. Someone who you love and who loves you.”_

_“Do you have words? Can we see them, big brother?” she asked._

_Tim nodded, unbuttoning his shirt to show them the words sprawled across his chest, parallel to his heart. They both looked at his words in awe._

_“‘_ I’m going to help you’ _? Are you going to be in trouble?” questioned Lux, his brows furrowed._

_Tim smiled reassuringly, “Don’t worry about it, Lux. Now, since you two seen mine, may I see yours?”_

_“Yeah!” They both chirped, worries temporarily forgotten as Elise rolled her dress sleeve to show her arm and Lux lifted his shirt up to reveal his side. Tim read the words carefully._

“Aw, who’s this little puppy? He’s almost as cute as you!” _Was written on Lux’s abdomen. Tim laughed lightly, moving to Elise’s._

“I love your dress! It’s so nice, and it goes well with that clip, if I’m being very honest.” _He was secretly glad that they added that last bit. He didn’t want to imagine how hard it would’ve been for her to find her soulmate without it._

_“They’re amazing,” he declared, “I’m sure they’re both wonderful people, whoever they are or will be.”_

_They both smiled brightly and thanked him as they tugged at his sleeves to make him lay down in the grass with them._

_He laughed and rolled over onto his back to stare at the sky, letting his siblings hug his sides as he breathed in the scent of the newly bloomed tulips nearby. He couldn’t care less that he was getting his clothes or hair dirty._

_They ended up staying like that for hours, talking about their hopes and dreams for the future, of their soulmate, even some simple things like their favourite dishes from their countries._

_Eventually, the three of them fell into a restful sleep as the sun started to set._

_Tim loved the feeling of this peace._

 

He gasped as his eyes snapped open. He tried sitting up, but someone held him down firmly.

“It's alright, calm down,” the person - man - said with barely concealed panic, “you're not in danger, you're safe. I'm a part of the Allies.”

Tim was about to let out some snarky comment but he ended up hacking violently instead. His head was hurting like crazy, he couldn't think straight, and he also realized his throat was pretty sore. Probably from little to no usage later, and he was certain coughing up a lung wasn't helping.

He didn't even realize the man had left his side until he came back with a glass of water and wet cloth. He sat down on the side of the bed as he placed the cloth gently on his forehead and handed Tim the glass, helping him raise it to his lips after he sat him up.

After guzzling down the drink, Tim could finally think clear enough through the haze in his head that he should start finding out what was going on.

“So, are you my guardian angel or something?” he asked, wincing slightly at how sore and raspy his throat was.

The man hesitated slightly before giving a small smile, his brilliant eyes twinkling.

“I'm not exactly an angel. I'm just Matthew. We've been looking for you for a while, Holland.”

A stab of confusion worked his way through his head.

“How do you know?” he asked sharply.

Matthew snorted, “I’m also known as someone else, just...less commonly. I'm also the Dominion of Canada.”

“That colony Francis had? The one he talked about all the time? North of America?”

“Yep, that's me. You're pretty lucky, you know. You were out for about five days since I found you. I thought you would be out longer,” he admitted shyly.

Tim nodded tiredly as everything caught up with him. But he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with knowing at least one more thing. An _important_ thing.

“My royal family,” he asked quietly, “How are they?”

“Princess Juliana and her two daughters are safe in Ottawa, my capital. The others wished to stay in England. I also have wonderful news!” he declared suddenly, clapping his hands together. It took all Tim had not to flinch. “Princess Juliana gave birth to a healthy baby girl!”

Tim’s eyes widened, “That’s wonderful! Where? Was she born on Dutch territory?”

Matthew shook his head, “No, but do not worry. The hospital she was born in was was made extra-territorial. She will be eligible for the Dutch crown.” he promised.

Tim was speechless. And very grateful towards him.

“Thank you.” he said emotionally, his throat feeling tight.

“Of course! Get some sleep now. You need it so you can heal.”

Tim agreed fully, laying back down with Matthew's help.

His hair was a mess, his head was throbbing, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to move much for a while, but he was safe and protected here, and he was able to sleep peacefully without the nightmares.

 

_January 1944, France_

 

Matthew limped into the tent Arthur required some Allies to meet up at. He didn't know where exactly he was at, but he didn't find it in himself to really care. His leg was throbbing, and he was just too tired to simply care anyway.

The meeting was quick and blurred. He paid close attention to everyone's updates and efforts, adding his own when asked, and waved off Alfred's, Arthur's, and Francis’ concerns about his injuries.

Finally, Arthur wrapped the meeting up, but not before an added “I want to talk with you” to Matthew and headed out the door with Alfred and Francis flanking him. He cursed himself for not expecting it, honestly.

Sighing, he stood up, careful of his injured leg, and began the process of slowly heading over to the door.

A small yelp of surprise ended up escaping him as someone grabbed his arm, and he stumbled as the person pulled him backwards.

“What the he-” he started as he whipped around, knocking his arm out of the person's grasp. He was about to yell at whoever decided to pull that stunt, but paused as he spotted a familiar blue and white scarf.

_Oh. It's Tim._

He looked worried, but the only thing that truly gave it away was the fact that he was clutching at his scarf.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you,” he seemed sincere, but his eyes were dark.

Matthew shrugged awkwardly, “It's ok. Is something the matter?”

Tim looked down and shrugged himself, his hold on his scarf loosening.

Matthew simply waited patiently as Tim shifted and finally sighed, looking up to meet his eyes.

“How is the royal family doing? The  princess?”

Matthew blinked before smiling reassuringly, “She’s in very good hands. I'm sure.”

Tim's lips pursed together, “Don't make me regret this.”

Matthew smirked and spun on his heel, “Of course!” he said over his shoulder, quickly limping out of the tent so he wouldn’t get teased for being slow.

 

_1945, Amsterdam, Netherlands_

 

“What is a good way to show appreciation?”

Elise looked up from her book curiously. “Appreciation? It depends on who it is.”

Tim blushed slightly. “Matthew.”

Lux snickered quietly from the kitchen. “Oh big brother,” he sang, “You have thousands of flowers! Send him some tulips!”

Tim tilted his head, “Would he likethat?”

“Are you kidding?” Elise asked. “He'd love it! I don't know him much, but he seems the type to be touched by any gift.”

Lux snorted as he walked in to where the two of them were sitting, trying carefully not to trip over Pelze as she trotted in behind him. "Careful, Pelze. Anyways, cares a lot for you. He would love the flowers.” he assured, smiling. “Now! Dinner is ready! I tried making something Francis taught me one time. Tell me if it’s good.”

Elise giggled and pulled Tim towards the kitchen table, “I’m sure it’s delicious. This is fun, yes? It’s been so long since we've had a family meal!”

Tim hummed as he took a bite out of his meal, “It _has_ been too long,” he agreed.

“And It’s only been a few months since the war,” Lux reminded, gesturing for Pelze to stay in the living room. “We had been a little tied up. We could start doing things like this more often now.”

“That’d be wonderful. How about every two or three months? We try to do something like this?”

Tim smiled and nodded. _That would be lovely._

They shared a few more words as they ate. Elise ended up excusing herself to bed after dinner, Lux following not long after, leaving Tim to his thoughts.

_Tulips...It’s not much, but I still hope he likes them. I’ll ask the princess what she thinks._

 

_…_

 

It would be a few days until he finally was able to ask her, and she accepted his idea.

And _that_ is how Tim ended up sailing across the ocean to Canada with thousands of tulips aboard with him.

He jumped off the ramp at the docks instead of walking. He was too excited to see Matthew’s reaction to take things like walking slow.

“Some people have already been notified of our arrival. There will be people here soon.” the captain told him as he stepped onto the dock.

Tim nodded, “I have let someone know I was arriving, as well.”

“You got a lady friend?” the captain teased.

“Not quite.” He spotted a familiar curl and waved the person over, “Matthew!”

The next thing he knew was he was wrapped up in a light hug, “Tim! I didn’t expect to see you! How are you doing? You look well!”

He laughed and detached himself. He watched the captain smile and walk away in the corner of his eye. “I’m doing well. And I came because I have something to give you.”

“Oh, you didn’t need to give me anything.” Matthew blushed.

Tim smiled, “I know. But it is thanks for helping me during the war. So, for my and the royal families gratitude, we present to you the finest tulips.” He dragged him over onto the boat where they were storing the thousands of flowers.

Matthew looked speechless, “There’s so many.”

Tim nodded, “I hope you’re okay with it.” he added. He worried maybe it was too many, but for the second time in less than an hour, he felt arms wrap around him.

“They’re absolutely gorgeous! I can’t thank you enough.” Matthew said.

Tim smiled softly, “You don’t need to thank me. They are our thank you gift to you and your people.”

“I’ll put them in Ontario. They’ll look lovely there.”

“I can see it already. They’ll look amazing.”

Matthew squeezed him lightly and stepped back, “Will you be staying? Maybe you can teach us how to properly plant them too,” he laughed.

“I think I will stay. I’m sure a few would look lovely in your garden.”

Matthew grinned, “I always wanted to add tulips.”

Tim grinned back, “And now you can.”

 

_1950, Nova Scotia, Canada_

 

“Come on, you're only young once!” Matthew laughed, handing the extra pair of black skates into Tim’s arms and picking up his own.

Tim scrunched his nose and held the skates delicately, “That doesn’t work for someone who’s practically immortal and stuck in their 20’s.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, “Well, it won’t kill you. Since you’re immortal and all,” he teased.

Tim stared at the bundle in his arms. Then back at Matthew, ready to tell him that maybe they should probably do something else, something a little _safer,_  but the words all died in his throat when he seen the Canadian give his those famous Puppy Dog Eyes. Arthur _had_ warned him when he had been drunk-rambling that last time, he supposed.

He sighed defeated, “As long as no one gets hurt.”

Matthew nearly jumped up and down, “It'll be fun! I promise! No hockey or anything, just same plain ol’ safe skating!”

Tim's lips twitched upwards as he took his boots off to replace them with the ~~knife shoes~~ skates.

Tim never actually recalled skating often before, which did not help the nervousness he felt. But if Matthew got this excited over something, there was no harm in trying.

So he mustered all the courage he had and stepped onto the ice, trying to follow to where Matthew was standing.

However, it seemed that luck was not on his side today. He slipped, almost doing a two step and throwing his arm out to catch his balance. A strike of panic overwhelmed him and he was falling-

To his surprise, he didn't hit feel like he hit the ground. He glanced up to see Matthew smiling down at him.

“I told you you'd be safe.”

And oh, that smile suited him so well.

He coughed, hoping he wasn't blushing as much as he thought he was. “Thank you.”

Matthew nodded and hoisted him up, “Of course. Here, take my hand.”

Oh boy, he was _definitely_ blushing. Still he took the offered hand and grasped it firmly in own.

Matthew smiled and started in a slow glide, propelling himself with his feet. Tim watched closely as he was dragged along, trying to do the same movements, still slipping and sliding but at least he wasn’t falling.

After about two hours, he finally got the hang of skating on his own. He was still unbalanced, but he was much better than when he first stepped on.

He watched Matthew skate next to him gracefully. He reminded him of a bird taking flight.

“How are you liking it?” Matthew asked.

“It’s not so bad.” he decided, furrowing his brows as he concentrated on holding his balance.

“Would you like to do it again sometime?”

 _Would he?_ Admittedly, he was hardly good at it. But he enjoyed skating with the other, and skating _was_ pretty fun.

“I’d love to,” he decided.

Matthew smiled brightly, “Cool! And don’t worry, you’ll get better over time. You’re doing amazing anyways!”

He doubted that, but accepted the compliment nonetheless. He wondered how Elise and Lux would enjoy skating.

They continued skating until the sun started setting and Matthew finally retired from the ice, helping Tim off too.

“That was amazing. Thank you.” Matthew told him softly.

“It was,” he he agree, “and I look forward to another time.”

Matthew grinned and handed him a thermos. “Hot chocolate.” he explained as he sat on a fallen tree log.

Tim took it and sat next to him. Matthew ended up leaning against him as Tim told the stories of the stars, watching him with wonder as he pointed out certain ones.

Oh yes, Tim was definitely looking forward to the next time.

 

_1953, Ottawa, Canada_

 

Tim took his time walking up to Matthew's door. The porch looked like it had been redone not that long ago, and there were some new trees in his yard that Tim didn't recall seeing before.

He soaked it all in while he gripped the railing to hoist himself up the steps. His body was already sore all over, and moving did not help.

He rapped on the door firmly and stepped back, holding his package behind his back as a kind of surprise.

“Hello?” Matthew greeted as he opened his door.

“Nice to see you.” Tim responded warmly. 

“Tim!” Matthew exclaimed and rushed forward to hug him. He returned it with one arm, “It's so good to see you again!”

“It's good to see you, too. I have a gift for you.” he said, letting go of Matthew to present him the flowers.

“Oh, Tim, they're lovely as always!” Matthew gushed as he took the bouquet full of tulips gently and breathed them in.

Tim smiled, “I'm glad you think so.”

Matthew smiled at him, “Actually, I have some news. The tulips reminded me about it. My people love the tulips as much I do. So much, in fact, that they will be putting on a festival this year for it!”

Tim was amazed, “A festival?” he questioned, “When?”

“The next few days. To celebrate the flowers the Dutch have given us. I hear people are coming from all over the country.”

“Would it be alright if I stayed? To see?” Tim asked almost shyly.

“Of course you can! You're welcome to stay as long as you like!”

He smiled. “I'm excited to see this.”

“So am I,” Matthew agreed, “Come inside? I was making some flapper pie.”

“Sounds delicious.”

 

_…_

 

The few days the spent together seemed to whip by fast. They caught up on each other's lives and families, and Tim even took a day to teach Matthew how to properly plant the tulips so they would last longer.

It was breakfast three days after Tim first showed up that Matthew announced today would be the day of the festival. And it was shortly after he announced it that he ended up shoving Tim in the passenger seat in his car and taking off towards Ottawa because they ended up losing track of time.

The streets were already full of all kinds of things from bikes to dogs by the time they got there. Matthew found a place to park after searching for almost five minutes, but Tim wasn’t complaining.

He was just simply amazed. He was amazed so many people enjoyed the tulips and how many people showed up just to see them.

A speech was made, something about the importance of the flowers and the beginning of the friendship between the two countries, but Tim was only half listening. He was too busy paying attention to all the people that showed up.

Along with the speech, a few musicians took turns standing up and playing some songs. All the artists and photographers ended up directly with the tulips, all seemingly determined to make them stay forever, if only in paper.

The whole time Matthew stayed by his side. Tim was glad he did, because he was nearly one hundred percent certain he would’ve gotten lost in the huge crowd otherwise.

All in all, at the end of the day as they both piled into Matthew’s vehicle, Tim came to the conclusion that he would try to come the next years as well. It seemed sort of unorganized this year, but he knew next year would be better.

And he knew it would make Matthew smile.

 

_1960, Amsterdam, Netherlands_

 

Tim glanced over to where Matthew was standing next to Alfred. The American was talking excitedly, gesturing wildly with his hands as he talked to his brother. He even, surprisingly, felt something akin to jealousy as he watched Matthew laughed at whatever they were talking about.

_No, I’m just thinking too deep into it._

Still, he _did_ want to spend some time with Matthew, since he was in the Netherlands and all.

So as Alfred walked away with a promise to see him tomorrow, Tim slide into the space that was left behind.

“Hey,” he greeted, “How are you?”

Matthew jumped slightly and looked over to him, “Oh! Hey, Tim. I’m doing well. You?”

“I’m doing well, too. Are you doing anything tonight? I could show you around some.” he offered.

Matthew smiled brightly, “I would love to!” he exclaimed. “What time would you want to meet up?”

“Is eight o'clock good for you?”

“It’s perfect,” Matthew replied, “I’ll meet you then. My meeting is later, but it’ll be over before then.”

Tim nodded, smiling, “I’ll meet you outside your meeting building, then.”

 

…

 

Eight o'clock actually rolled around faster than Tim expected, and before he knew it, he was standing in front of the meeting hall Matthew currently was in.

The door burst open and out came Matthew and a few others. He waved at him and headed over.

“What do you have planned?” Matthew asked as he reached him. Tim took his hand a guided him out of the building and slipped through the people in the crowds around them.

"Just around. Explore a bit."

Matthew nodded and followed closely behind him as they weaved their way through the brick streets.

Their first stop was a local flower shop, where Tim ended up talking about each flower type in the store front, Matthew mentally taking notes of which flowers will survive best in winter and which ones like heat the most.

Next Tim ended up taking Matthew to the old Stadsschouwburg. Matthew tilted his head and watched it curiously.

“It looks very old,” he mused aloud. “When was it made?”

Tim hummed in thought, “Around sometime 1638? I believe so. It was actually rebuilt and relocated after 1772, when it caught fire.”

Matthew gave a low whistle, “It’s still a beaut.”

He laughed and moved along the street, “Beaut?”

“Some of my people use it as a short term for ‘beautiful’. Thought it was funny.” Matthew snickered.

“It is pretty funny.” he admitted, chuckling.

After that trip, Tim took Matthew to Westerpark so they could relax for a little while. They walked along the pathway, neither minding that it was around midnight or that it was starting to get chilly.

Tim wrapped his scarf tighter around himself and pointed at a bench, “Would you like to sit?”

Matthew nodded, “I think my feet might fall off soon if I don’t.” he joked.

Tim laughed and sat on the wooden bench alongside Matthew.

“Tonight really was wonderful. Thank you.” Matthew said.

Tim’s lips twitched up, “Thank you for agreeing to come and listen to my ramblings.”

Matthew laughed softly, “We haven’t spent some time together in a bit. I wasn’t going to pass the offer down.”

He hummed. “Want a cigarette?” he offered, showing Matthew the pack.

Matthew eyed the pack like it had personally offended him, “I don’t know if I should.”

“We could share one? If you want.” he suggested. “That way we wouldn’t even have a full one.”

Matthew shrugged, “If you don’t mind.” he said shyly.

“Of course I don’t.” Tim smiled, lighting a cigarette, “I’m ok with it.”

Matthew nodded. Eventually their conversation steered towards their countries and homes as the passed the cigarette between them, the only thing allowing then to see were the stars in the sky and the burning ashes.

 

_1972, Chezcosolvakia_

 

“Got a weed?”

Tim glanced up to see Matthew sit besides him on the bench. He nodded to him, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and handing one to him before taking one himself.

“You got a lighter?” He asked putting the pack into his jacket.

“Of course.” Matthew answered, lighting his own before light Tim's.

They sat in silence, dragging their sticks and simply enjoying each other's company.

“Are you scared?”

Tim looked at him hesitantly. Matthew had asked him so quietly that he was unsure he had even spoke at all.

“Scared?”

“Of what's happening. The threat of another war and all.” Matthew clarified louder.

Tim shrugged, “I've seen a lot of wars.”

“But this one's _different."_  Matthew insisted, taking a long drag on his weed and breathing out slowly. Tim watched him breath in and out a few times before responding.

“I don't know if I’m scared,” he said gazing around the park, “and if finding out means a war, I don't want to.”

Matthew didn't reply. They sat in another comfortable silence until their cigarettes eventually burned out.

He heard Matthew sigh next to him as he stomped out the ashes.

“Do you have another?” he asked, twisting his foot on the previous one.

“What would your family do if they found out that your smoking with me?” Tim asked.

Matthew shrugged. “Too busy to care.”

Tim reached into his jacket to grab the pack. “There’s only one left.”

“We can share, if you want.” Matthew offered.

He nodded and passed it to him so he could light it. The first couple times were a little awkward when the shared a cigarette, but now it seemed almost normal.

Matthew took a long drag, “Thank you,” he said quietly, handing him the stick.

Tim shrugged and took it from him.

“Of course. Don't worry about it. You're playing Russia tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said, his tone filling with something unreadable, “but it won't be that bad. It's a friendly sport. We all agreed to that, remember?”

Tim snorted. _Hockey a friendly sport?_ “Just be careful, alright?”

Matthew nodded at him, “I will.”

 

…

 

 _Well_ that _was some “friendly sport_."

All the time he watched Matthew and his team play against others, Tim _never_ recalled anything like what he was witnessing.

A full on fight between both the USSR and Canada teams. So bad that the referees stopped trying to interfere.

He could see Matthew and Ivan having their own little brawl in the corner of the rink in between everyone else's, grabbing jersey’s and swinging their fists at each other to get a blow or get the other down on the ice.

His stomach twisted anxiously as he watched Ivan give Matthew a nasty right hook hard enough to knock his helmet off his head before falling and bouncing it off the ice.

A couple of countries who had been sitting together stood up and started yelling a bunch of things that ended up getting lost in the other shouts around them. But Tim wasn’t focused on their words. He was focused on the fight on the rink.

Ivan managed to get on top of Matthew, but the Canadian was striking him constantly, giving him no room for an attack.

Ivan looked like he was starting to get enraged with the punches and tried to aim for one on Matthew’s abdomen instead. Matthew must’ve realized too, because with one quick twist and punch to the face, Ivan toppled over onto the ice.

Surprisingly, Matthew didn’t jump on top of him, but stood up and scowled at Ivan. His lips moved, but only Ivan could hear him on the ice.

Tim saw Ivan smile viciously before leaping up and speeding towards Matthew, arm flying back.

Tim cursed loudly as the lights suddenly went out and heard Arthur who was standing on his left curse too. The tension and anger in the air was so thick you wouldn’t even be able to cut it with a knife.

The lights were back on as quick as they were off, and they finally were able to see what had happened.

Matthew was still standing, though somewhat lopsided, his arm reeled back to strike Ivan in his grasp, who was speaking to him. Both were sweating and breathing heavily.

Whatever Ivan told him must’ve snapped Matthew out of his rage. Matthew said something to Ivan before shoving him backwards and heading toward his team bench.

Tim looked over him carefully. He didn’t seem to be bleeding and there were no cuts from what he could see. He seemed to be skating funny, though.

His heart was still racing from those few seconds in the dark. Those few seconds of not knowing, not seeing in the roar of the crowd. It scared him more than he was ever willing to admit.

He turned to Arthur, “We need to check up on him.”

Arthur nodded, “You can see him later. I want to get him out of here first, after they decided what’s going to happen,” he said as he headed towards the aisle. Alfred nodded to him as he followed as he followed Arthur.

Tim sighed. He wanted to see Matthew _now_ , needed to see how he was by himself.

Technically, he knew it would be a while until he would be able to. He somewhat waited impatiently, watched as both teams were kicked off the ice. They didn’t come back on.

Another thirty or more minutes passed and he got fed up with waiting with the emptying rink. So he headed down to the change rooms himself.

Luckily, he didn’t have to look far to be able to find some answers as to what was going on.

He marched up to where Finland was standing, still in his gear, talking animatedly with Denmark.

“Where’s Matthew?” he demanded.

Tino whipped around before relaxing, “Matthew? He left for his hotel with his family.” Tino answered. Matthias adding quickly, “He and Ivan, actually. They were disqualified. Tell us how Matthew's doin’ when you see ‘em”

He nodded his thanks to the two and left, his next destination the hotel.

 

…

 

He ended up getting there a bit after sunset, since he had to take a (very confusing) public bus to get there.

He reached the room number Matthew had told him earlier in record time, knocking on the door loudly.

“Who is it?” he heard Francis yell.

“It’s Tim.”

There was a click and the door swung open. He stepped inside as Francis close the door swiftly behind him, his scarf fluttering from the breeze.

“He’s in the kitchen with Alfred and Arthur. We’re looking for any injuries,” he explained as he waited for Tim to take off his shoes.

“Any major ones?” he asked.

Francis sighed, “We don’t think he has a concussion, but he definitely has some bruises. His foot looks a little worse for wear, but we aren't certain. He’s downplaying his injuries.”

“He always did.” Tim reminded.

“ _Oui,_ but it’s _Ivan_ he got in a fight with. He’s lucky he’s not hurt worse.” Francis’ voice quavered slightly, and Tim decided to head towards the kitchen to save Francis from talking about it, lest he have a breakdown. Arthur could deal with that.

As he walked in with Francis, he seen Alfred grasping Matthew’s hand at the table while Arthur worked busily behind them, only briefly glancing up to look at him.

“Hello, Tim. I didn’t think you would come so soon.” he admitted distractedly.

“I was worried.” he replied, sitting on Matthew’s other side, “You gave me quite a scare.”

“Sorry.” Matthew mumbled, not looking up from his lap.

“Don’t be sorry. You alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Bull.” he heard Alfred whispered under his breath. Tim had to agree.

“What was Ivan saying to you on the ice?” That question got some attention. Three heads whipped around to look at him.

Matthew shrugged, “He was trying to get me angry, throw me off. That’s all.”

“But what did he _say_?” Alfred stressed.

“Mostly insults,” he looked towards the window, “a couple threats. I fell for it, but I was quick enough to snap out of it. Still got disqualified.” he scowled slightly.

Tim snorted, “I’m sure you’ll get the next time.”

Matthew sighed, “Yeah…”

No one spoke for a few minutes, until Arthur turned away from whatever he was doing and clapped his hands together. “Well, I’m just going to go to bed. Since you keep saying you’re fine, I’ll take your word. We’ll still check tomorrow, but for now, we can all retire.” Arthur turned to him, “What will you be doing?”

He shrugged, “I’ll see if I can get a room here for the night.”

Arthur nodded and pulled a very quiet Francis toward one of the bedrooms. Alfred stood up, squeezed Matthew’s shoulder with a promise of being back in a minute and left, leaving only the both of them.

Tim bit his cheek, “I should probably be leaving too. Just,” he sighed, “be careful. Don’t ignore any injuries.”

Matthew nodded. “Thank you. For checking up on me.” he said quietly.

Tim nodded and rested his hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “Of course.”

Satisfied, he turned and left with one quick glance back at Matthew, who smiled faintly.

“See you tomorrow,” Tim promised.

“See you tomorrow.”

And with that he left with a weight not as heavy in his heart.

 

_1980, Brussels, Belgium_

 

Tim spotted Matthew sitting at his assigned spot at the meeting table.

“Hey,” he greeted, “Elise invited me to dinner at her house tonight. She was wondering if you would like to come as well.”

Matthew glanced up and smiled, “Dinner sounds lovely! What time should I come?”

He shrugged, “Come around seven. Lux will be cooking, and he always likes to take his time. He takes forever.”

Matthew chuckled, “Cooking always does take time. I’ll meet you then, I’m looking for it. Where does your sister live?”

Tim quickly wrote down the address and slipped into his own seat as the meeting started.

 

…

 

Seven came eventually. Lux was nearly finished cooking, and Tim and Elise were talking as they set the table.

“I’m so glad he accepted!” Elise exclaimed, “He is so nice! I think it will be a good bonding opportunity. What do you think?”

Tim chuckled, “I agree. It has been a while since I had seen him, or since we had had a family meal.”

“You always have your nose in work, big brother.” Lux added as he stirred. “At least you can take a break tonight.”

He hummed, “I see you've been in my closet as well.”

Lux huffed teasingly, “I wanted to wear a suit, but mine was dirty. So I borrowed yours. I think it looks well.”

Elise giggled, “You look amazing, Lux. _Luxurious_ , even.”

They all laughed as the doorbell rang.

“I'll get it!” Elise said as she took off towards the door. Tim finished placing the utensils as her and Matthew walked into the room.

“Hello, Tim, Lux. It smells delicious in here!” Matthew complimented.

Tim smiled and Lux beamed at the compliment.

“Thanks! It's called _bouneschlupp!_ It's considered a national dish in Luxembourg. I also made _stofé_ for dessert.” Lux explained as he put the soup in bowls and set them on the table.

“ _Stofé_ for dessert? That sounds wonder, Lux.” Elise smiled and sat down on Tim's right, Matthew on his left.

They made small talk over the meal, sharing stories of all kinds of the past.

“My first time swimming was a disaster. I nearly drowned,” Lux stated at some point as they moved onto dessert. “It was a good thing Elise and Tim were there. They ended up jumping in to save me,” he laughed, “even though they took me where my feet could touch the ground, I was still panicking. I even tried to climb on Elise's shoulders! Our clothes ended up ruined in the end.”

Elise giggled, “I remember that. Tim didn't let you out of his sight near water for years.”

He blushed, “I didn't want him to make a similar mistake.”

“I am still here now, and I can even swim!”

They laughed as Lux stood up and cleared the table of the dishes.

Elise smiled at Matthew. “Would you like to spend the night? I have two spare bedrooms; I'm sure Tim and Lux wouldn't mind sharing a room for the night.”

Tim snorted, “As long as he doesn't steal the blankets.”

“I do not! You are the one who ends up hogging the bed anyways!”

Matthew laughed, “I could take the couch,” he offered.

“Nonsense!” Elise exclaimed.

Tim smiled, “I’m okay with taking the couch.”

Elise and Matthew looked at him.

“You sure?”

He nodded, “Of course. It's no problem.”

Elise nodded, “Very well. I'm going to retire for the night, then. I'll show you your room, Matthew. Goodnight, Tim, Lux!”

“Night,” they both responded at the same time. Matthew excited the kitchen and followed Elise up the stairs.

“I have decided I like him.” Lux stated as he put some of the dishes away.

“I’m glad. I'm going to go to bed now as well; I'll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, then.”

 

…

 

_Anger, tears, betrayal, hatred. Guns, shouts, pain, guilt-_

Tim snapped his eyes open.

_Dream. Only a dream._

He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep for a little while. He sighed and got up from the couch, deciding to step outside for a few moments. Surprisingly, he seen Matthew outside already.

“Hey. Couldn't sleep?” he asked as he sat down on the steps next to him.

Matthew shook his head, “I was just gazing at the stars. You couldn’t sleep?”

He shrugged, “Had a nightmare.”

“You wanna talk about it? It might help.”

He breathed out softly, “It was about the Belgian Revolution. My sister and her people were unhappy under my rule, and eventually they rebelled against us. We have peaceful ties now, but I guess I just regret how things played out.”

“I know how you feel. I regret some things, too.” Matthew comforted softly. “It hurts, but there's no time than the present to make up for old mistakes.”

He nodded, glancing up at the stars, “You're right. It’s just, what if something like that happens again?”

“It won't,” Matthew protested. “You three care for each other, whether you admit it or not.”

_He has a point._

He didn't respond until he stood up to go back into the house.

“Don't stay out too long or you could catch a cold. And, thank you.” he added the last part softly.

Matthew smiled at him as he stood up, “You're welcome. Don't be embarrassed of your fears.”

He looked away and nodded. _Don't be embarrassed of your fears._

But what if your fears are of losing someone?

 

_1990, New York, United States_

 

“Stop that. It’s too early for you to be in such a good mood.”

“It’s four-thirty in the afternoon,” Matthew responded easily, flipping the pancakes over with ease and swaying to an invisible tune, “Not my fault you took, like, three all-nighters.”

Tim grunted as he sat down, rubbing his hands down his face, “I had to finish up a lot of work. Besides, it’s not that many. I’m pretty sure I’ve stayed up longer before.”

Matthew sighed, “That’s not good. And please don’t pass out on the table. You need to get something into you first.”

Tim hummed. He rested his head against his folded arms on the table, breathing in the scent of fresh pancakes. He could practically feel Matthew staring at him before turning he turned back to the stove and continued cooking.

“I’m fine. I’m just tired,” he tried to assure the other.

“‘Just tired’, you say? I’d hate to see what exhausted must be than.”

“Exhausted is probably when I get to around four or five all-nighters.” Tim said through a quiet yawn.

Matthew tsked lightly as he put the cooked pancakes on the table, “Eat, then you can sleep.”

Tim smiled as brightly as he could at him and dug into the food. Matthew’s pancakes were always the best, just as Elise’s waffles were the best.

He didn’t actually remember falling asleep. One minute he was listening to Matthew as he talked about his brother, and the next he awoke to himself being half-carried half-dragged to the bedroom.

“I can walk,” he protested.

Matthew smiled softly, “It’s alright, Tim. I got you, just relax.” he said as he pushed the door open to the bedroom.

Matthew placed him down softly on the and covered him with the blankets.

“I might be late to the meeting tomorrow,” he warned.

“It’s alright, I’ll let them know you were unavailable for the day. Get some sleep now.” Matthew whispered as he squeezed his hand lightly before exiting the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Tim sighed and wrapped himself tighter around the blankets as he drifted into a peaceful sleep, the warmth of Matthew’s hand still lingering on his.

 

_2000, Netherlands_

 

Tim allowed himself to fully wake up slowly, listening to the birds squawk outside his window as he opened his eyes.

He eventually sighed and sat up to stretch his arms, groaning softly as his bones cracked.

_Today’s the day. I’m going to ask him today._

Matthew had decided to stay the night in his house, mostly because they hadn’t seen each other in a while and Tim had insisted, wanting to spend some time with him.

And lately Tim had felt something different with Matthew. His gaze had turned sad a few times, and Tim was sure he had seen him throw longing glances towards him.

He remembers asking Matthew about his soulmate tattoo once. They had been sitting at an empty ice rink at the 1984 Sarajevo Winter Olympics.

 

_…_

 

_“Hey,” Tim said sitting next to Matthew, “You excited?”_

_“Of course! It's the Winter Olympics!” He replied, smiling._

_Tim grinned and nodded._

_“Hey, I've been meaning to ask you. Do you have a tattoo?” Matthew asked suddenly after a few moments of silence. Tim glanced over at him quizzically._

_“Tattoo? No, why?”_

_Matthew looked at him bewildered, “You don't have a soulmate tattoo?”_

_His eyes widened in understanding, “Oh! A soulmate tattoo. Yeah, I have one.”_

_“Can I see?” Matthew asked shyly before backtracking, “Sorry, I probably shouldn't have asked - it's not my place and you don't have to show-”_

_He smiled and grabbed his shoulder, “It's alright, Matt. I’ll show you.”_

_He unzipped his jacket and lifted his shirt up to show his tattoo, watching carefully for Matthew's reaction._

"It's alright, you're safe. I'm going to help you."

_His face flashed several different emotions all at once, but they ended up disappearing just as quickly. Confusion, understanding, joy, and surprisingly, sadness seemed mixed in there too._

_“Did you ever hear someone say it?” Matthew asked hopefully._

_He shook his head, “Not that I remember.”_

_Matthew nodded turning back to the rink. His shoulders were dropped and his face filled with disappointment._

_He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when Matthew stood up._

_“I should check on my teams,” he said quietly, walking away from him._

_Tim let out a breath and watched it turn to steam. He didn't know what was the matter or how to fix it. So, he had decided not to ask and let it go._

He kicked himself over it now. He should have tried to ask _then_ not years later.

But lately his curiosity was getting the better of him, and Matthew had just looked so _sad._

So, he quickly and quietly sat got dressed before sneaking in the guest room with a pen and pad.

 

_Meet me at Dam Square, 3 o'clock._

_-Tim_

 

Satisfied, Tim ripped the price of paper off the pad, pressing the sticky side on Matthew's forehead. He watched him sleep quietly for a minute, the peaceful expression on his face. Then, he left as quickly as he came, grabbing his scarf as he slipped out of the house to run some errands.

 

…

 

3 o'clock happened soon enough, and Tim stood tall in the crowd looking for Matthew.

After a few minutes he spotted him weaving in and out of groups of people, heading towards him. Apparently Matthew must’ve seen him before he seen Matthew.

He stopped in front of him, laughing lightly, “Fancy seeing you here.” he teased.

“Did you get my note?” he asked before coughing awkwardly.

Matthew smiled, “Of course. You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping.”

Tim blushed, “I wanted you to get it.”

“I know, don’t worry. And besides, I probably wouldn’t be here if I didn’t get it,” Matthew reasoned, giggling.

Tim felt his cheeks brighten a bit more, “I have something to show you.”

Matthew tilted his head curiously, “Lead the way. How long will it take?”

He shrugged and headed on his way, “Thirty minutes to an hour or so.”

“Sounds like a good walk.”

 

…

 

“Alright, we’re here.” he announced.

He watched Matthew look around in awe, “I’ve never been here before. What’s it called?”

“Vondelpark. I thought you would like it.” he said happily.

“It’s gorgeous! Do you want to walk around?”

He chuckled, “That’s why I brought you here.”

Matthew smiled shyly and hesitantly took his hand. Tim turned his head away and smiled, heading down the path.

_It’s better to just to get it over with right now, though._

“Hey, Matt, can I ask you a question?”

Matthew looked up at him warmly, “Of course you can.”

He nodded. “Do you remember the 1984 Olympics? That time we talked about soulmate tattoos at the rink?”

Matthew tilted his head, “Yeah, I remember. Why?”

“You kind of looked...upset. I didn’t want to bring it up then but I just wanted to ask why.”

Matthew sighed and pointed to a unoccupied tree a few feet away, “Let’s go over there. I’ll tell you.”

Tim nodded and walked over, sitting with his back against the trunk, his shoulder touching Matthew’s as he did the same. It was silent as Matthew fiddled with his drawstrings on his hoodie.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Matthew asked quietly.

“I think so. It was before the time in that house, right? I just don’t remember much about it.” he admitted.

“Do you remember the first thing you said to me?”

Tim nodded, “‘So, are you my guardian angel or something?’ I think I was pretty out of it.”

Matthew chuckled, “Maybe. But…” he trailed off and lifted his hoodie sleeve to show his forearm.

Tim felt the world slow around them. Those words, those words on Matthew’s arm. It had been the first thing he had said to him. Of course, it all made sense now. He remembers now, that person who had whispered to him before he woke up in that house.

 _It was_ Matthew.

He quickly unbuttoned his coat and shirt to reveal his own words. _They were_ Matthew’s _words._

Matthew was staring at him hopefully, and Tim’s heart leaped in his throat.

_It had always been Matthew._

He threw himself towards Matthew and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.

“I’m glad it’s you.” he told him, and _maybe_ he was crying, just a little.

Matthew buried his face in his shoulder and laughed, “I am too.”

People always did say that you should marry your best friend.

 

_Present, Amsterdam, Netherlands_

 

Tim groaned, sitting up on the couch. Or at least tried to. He glanced down at the weight on his chest, smiling softly at the sight.

Matthew was curled along his body, arms wrapped around his stomach. His mouth was open and he was slightly drooling on Tim’s sweatshirt, but he hardly minded.

_He’s adorable._

The sun was just about setting. Kumajiro was also sleeping contently on the carpet below them. They must’ve asleep sometime after supper. And Matthew was sleeping so calm, so Tim decided to join him in a slumber.

 

…

 

The next time Tim woke up, there was no weight on him. He opened his eyes and immediately spotted Matthew staring out the window.

He rolled off the couch and held in a groan as his back cracked when he stood up.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked as he stood behind him.

“Just thinking about the stars...how quiet the world is at night.” Matthew replied.

Tim snaked his arms around his waist in a hug and rested his chin on Matthew’s head, “I always did love the night,” he admitted, “the stars made me feel less lonely, whenever I was.”

Matthew hummed. “You had your siblings and friends. You weren't completely alone. And you aren’t anymore.”

Tim smiled and buried his nose in Matthew’s hair. “I know.” He leaned over to the end table and flicked on the radio, but not the light. The moonlight was fine.

“What’re you doing?”

“Dancing with you.” he replied, turning Matthew in his arms so he was facing him. He started gently swaying back and forth with the music, Matthew wrapping their hands together.

_We'll do it all,_

_Everything,_

_On our own._

No words were needed between them in this moment. Right now, they were not Canada and Netherlands. Right now, they were only Matthew and Tim, two soulmate who were destined by fate.

 _We don't need,_ _  
_

_Anything,_ _Or anyone._

Tim had always had his doubt about fate. Such a weird concept it was. But here with Matthew in his arms, it just felt right. And maybe fate really _was_ real.

_If I lay here,_

_If I just lay here,_ _Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

He realized Matthew had started quietly singing along as they waltzed around the room. Barely above a whisper, but Tim could still hear it.

_I don't quite know,_

_How to say,_

_How I feel._

He never was quite good at completely showing his emotions. A lot of people thought he was just a cheap old man. And in some ways, maybe he was, but he _cared_ too. He cared about the people closest to him.

_Those three words,_

_Are said too much._

_They're not enough._

They really aren't enough. Tim dipped Matthew suddenly, cherishing the sound of his laugh.

_If I lay here,_

_If I just lay here,_

_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_  
  
_Forget what we're told,_

_Before we get too old._

_Show me a garden that's bursting into life._

Gardens. Tim always had loved gardens. So full of life and beauty.

_Let's waste time,_

_Chasing cars,_

_Around our heads._  
  
I need your grace,

_To remind me,_

_To find my own._

Matthew pressed their foreheads together and brushed their noses, lips only inches apart.

_If I lay here,_

_If I just lay here,_

_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_  
  
_Forget what we're told,_

_Before we get too old._

_Show me a garden that's bursting into life._

Those words, all these words. They were all so important and meaningful and it was almost like _their_ song.

_All that I am,_

_All that I ever was,_

_Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see._

He had always liked Matthew’s eyes too. Violet, lavender. Whatever you wanted to call it. He remembers Matthew comparing his own eyes to limes and leaves. They reminded him of spring, Matthew had said.

_I don't know where,_

_Confused about how as well._

_Just know that these things will never change for us at all._

They started to slow down in their dance as the music come to an end. Lips brushing together ever so slightly, the only sounds were the music and their breathing.

_If I lay here,_

_If I just lay here,_

_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

They stared into each other's faces as the music faded.

“I love you.” he breathed out.

Matthew smiled brightly, “I love you, too. ‘Till the end of our days.”

“‘Till the end.” Tim agreed, pulling him closer.

A light flurries was happening outside.

 _It’s perfect,_ he decided, Matthew in his arms and the room illuminated from outside.

 

_(And as stated: things never were the same.)_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Nedcan Valentines Day gift for the-cow-of-mordor on Tumblr. Everything seemed against me as I tried to finish and publish this (isn't that always the way? Lol) Anyways, I really hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> (Also, I'm sorry I haven't finished my previous stories. I haven't been as active in the YJ fandom as I had been, and there is no guarantee I will ever finish the previous stories. I'm sorry, but I don't know if I'd be good at writing them anymore)


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